Only in the Rain

   
     I accidentally dropped my cell phone off of the balcony last night.  I started climbing down the fire escape to see if there would be anything left of the phone to salvage.  But about halfway between the first and second story of my apartment I realized that the night was cool, suspiciously dark, and ever so inviting for an adventure...

     With a leap from the fifth or sixth step I landed on the dry pavement.  I could hear small pebbles crunch underneath my feet.  The air was heavy, you could smell the rain in it.  One step down the alley and my cell phone was forgotten, presumably shattered across the asphalt.  Never thought much of cellular life I guess.  I figured walking to Freddy's was a good start for the evenings activities.  It's an all night diner, mostly truckers and street urchins like myself that hang out there.

      The party crowd isn't out tonight.  Unusual for a Wednesday night in a college town...  The fog was getting heavy and turning into more of a light mist.  I slid my hood over my head and zipped up the front of my sweatshirt.  I had a feeling of falling in my heart as I walked.  One of those inspiring nights, where the world is possibly your most infinite enemy, but you couldn't feel more in control.  Every breath was grateful, and significance defined my mental equilibrium.

     I swung the front door to Freddy's open and noticed Anne reading a book in the booth next to the old guy that always seemed to be there.  I slipped into the booth across from Anne just as she noticed me.
     "What are you reading?" I asked,  "Out of the Silent Planet" she replied.  "How are you liking that?"  "It's been transformational.  A metaphorical ambush.  You can't go wrong with science fiction writing from the late 30's...  I mean, how does someone write a book so like, deep and intricate about something they have never experienced or even had the resources to study."
      I could tell by this statement that Anne had been here reading for awhile and that I should just nod and flag a waitress down.  "What can I get ya'?" the waitress said in her usual monotone.  It must have been a long night so far.  She probably gets sick of customers like us that hang out here all night without leaving much for tips...  What Can I say?  We aren't rolling in the dough so to speak.
     "I'll get the coffee and pie please."  I said with a slight grin.
"Apple, banana cream, or pecan?"
"Pecan."
"I'll be right back with your coffee."  she said before quickly turning on her heels and heading toward the kitchen.  We both knew it was part of a script that we had been performing over and over again since the first time I found out about Freddy's.  It never seemed to bother her.  Maybe it was just part of working at an all night diner.

     Anne had set her book down and sipped her last drops of coffee anticipating a refill with my fresh cup on the way.  "So what brings you out tonight?"  she asked.
"Restless I suppose, had a feeling life might catch up with me if I didn't run away for a bit."
"Ahhh...  I see.  Well, do you mind if I tag along?  I need to take a break from this book.  It's blowing my mind to pieces..."
"Yeah, that sounds good."
    "Mel" brought my coffee and pie at the same time.  I sipped my coffee, took a bite of pie, then took two massive gulps of coffee and started getting up from the booth.  "You're just going to leave your food?" Anne asked.  I threw a ten dollar bill onto the table and said, "The night is too young to waste.  Let's go."
    So we left.  I held the door open for Anne as she pushed her arms through the sleeves of her jacket and stepped outside.  I slid the hood of my sweatshirt back over my head.  We started walking towards downtown.  "Why were you out here?" I asked in response from earlier.  "Roommates...  Couldn't get into my book.  And I just needed some fresh air..."

     The mist turned into a decent sprinkle and we danced around the sidewalk as we walked.  We walked about 15 blocks with no destination in mind.  We found ourselves in an unfamiliar part of town.  You know, that area of town that you frequently drive by, but if you didn't take the time to walk around you would have no idea what was actually there.  It started to downpour so we ran under the awning of the first store we saw.  It was called "Revolver-vintage and gently used clothing."  We stepped inside, soaked and smiling ear to ear.  The shopkeeper looked at us as we wiped our feet looking at one another, and began glancing around at all the bright pastels contrasting with the dull greys and browns.  We were instantly hooked.  I started browsing some plaid, polyester pants while Anne was checking out silk scarves around a faceless manikan.
    I went to the dressing room with a pair of plaid pants, they fit perfectly.  On my way to show them to Anne I saw a sailor's cap on a shelf.  I immediately grabbed it off the shelf and placed it on my head, slightly cockeyed.  Anne came around the corner only to be surprised by my proud grin and ensemble.  She laughed and pulled her camera out of her bag and snapped a picture of me posing like a sailor fresh into port...
   Anne revealed a smile as she pulled the camera away from her face.  A spark lit up in her eyes and she laughed as I turned around and headed back into the dressing room.  I left the pants hanging next to the mirror, and placed the sailors cap back in its rightful place.  I nodded at the cashier as we passed the front counter on our way out.  She didn't seem to mind our cheap laughs.  Maybe we were her only form of entertainment for the evening.

     I remember smelling the rain in the air as soon as we stepped back outside.  It was dripping off the awning in consistent streams.  Our eyes scanned the shops surrounding us, not wanting to step into the rain without some sort of a game plan.  Anne said, "Hey! Lets check out that used book store."  She ran into the street before I could even speak.  I followed behind quickly, pulling my hood up over my head as we exited from under the awning.  The rain was full of large drops that felt refreshing on our hands and faces as we ran across the street.  We reached the bookstore, "Red Books" it was called, mostly unscathed by the rain.  I wiped my feet just outside of the doorway while Anne casually shook the rain out of her coat.
    This place had a distinct smell, one that Anne had been very familiar with, old books.  A book has usually had it place in my life, but Anne took reading to a whole new level.  She would draw a blank if you asked her, "Seen any good movies lately?"  But to ask her if she had read any interesting books lately, you would soon wish you hadn't asked at all.

     Anne slowly walked down a leaning aisle of books, and ran her finger across their titles as she passed.  When a title would stand out to her she would stop and slightly tilt, her foot would halfway leave the ground as if she was going to take a step but didn't.  Whether the foot was slowly placed back on the ground, or finished the step determined if the book was worth looking through or not.
    As I paced the aisles and glanced around at all the books that seemed to be held together by a mystical means, I realized that almost all these books had been read at one point or another.  Hence the name, "Red Books."  I laughed at myself for not understanding the pun till then.  While I was still distracted in my thoughts, I was surprised by a squeal in the next aisle over.  I quickly poked my head around the corner and saw Anne, defining ecstatic with her facial expression.  "What?!" I asked her.  She said, "It's Emerson! A first edition!"  She squealed again.  I "Sshd" her as a grin crept across my face.  She hugged the book close to her chest with her eyes closed.  Apparently this was a big deal...  Anne continued to rattle off words that had zero meaning to me, but would have kept any Comp. professor engaged and attentive.  I had to admit, just looking at the book did make me slightly intrigued.
     We started heading to the front of the store where an old  man was sitting on a wooden "office" chair behind an old writing desk.  Anne asked, "How much is this one?"  The man looked at it through his bifocals, and looked back up at Anne.  "This is a good selection.  Have you ever read any of Emerson's essays before?"
"Yes, 'Circles' and 'Nature' are my favorite, but I've never held a first edition of either before."  The man seemed to be thoughtful for a moment.  He looked at the book once again, then back at Anne.
     "It is a fine copy indeed, and would fetch a nice price from a collector.  But to tell you the truth, I found this in the basement of an elderly woman's home when I was doing odd jobs to make it through college.  The old woman seemed happy to let me have it as payment for fixing the plumbing.  Seeing as it didn't cost me much of anything, I don't see why it should cost you much of anything either.  Being I can see that you must be as passionate about these old things as I am.  How does five dollars sound?"
     I almost reached out to catch Anne's jaw out of fear of it dropping to the floor.  She quickly started grabbing at her purse as she began fumbling over the words, "Really? Oh, thank you so much! You can't even understand how much this means to me..."  The old man stood up as he held his hand out as Anne handed him the money.  He set the cash on his desk, he apparently had no need for a cash register, and simply made his own receipts written with a ballpoint pen in an old fashion waitress notebook.  He held out his hand once more inviting a handshake from Anne, she stood there for a second then flung herself at the man, and wrapped her hands around him.  He seemed surprised, but then slowly patted her on the back and said, "I'm just glad that old thing can be put to good use instead of rotting away on my shelves."
    "Thanks again!"  Anne said as we stepped towards the door.  I opened the door for her, as she stepped out I looked back at the old man, "I like the name of the shop by the way." I said with a grin.  Anne rolled her eyes and pulled my out the door by my arm.  "You just got that now?" She asked.  I just smiled and continued walking.

     We stumbled down the sidewalk like drunkards, as we jokingly pushed each other back and forth, exposing the other to the rain falling from outside of the awnings.  That's when I saw a light flickering over an inlet in the wall.  A neon sign above the door read, "Closer Records."  I looked at Anne who had a confused sort of look on her face.  She shrugged, and I cracked open the door, and saw a guy behind a glass counter look up from a magazine at the sound of the door.  I opened the door the rest of the way and stepped inside.  Anne right at my heels.
     I'm not really sure how to explain the way I felt in those first five seconds of being in that shop other than saying it felt like home.  A home in the sense that it felt right to be where I was when I was in that very moment.  I looked around the open room, walls covered in posters.  Morrissey, Minor Threat, Black Flag, 7 Seconds, Dinosaur Jr., It was breathtaking.  "Are you here for the show? Or are you just hangin' out?"  This was the first time I really looked at the man behind the counter.  He was a bigger guy.  Not fat, but not muscular either.  Just bigger.  He had a full beard and his ears were gauged to about an inch.  His head was shaved and two giant black "X's" were tattooed on the back of his hands.  "The show?" I asked?  "You're not here for the show?  You must be the only ones here that aren't..."
"Where is it?  You don't have bands play in here do you?"
"It's downstairs.  In 'The Basement." he said, pointing a finger to my right.
Anne and I followed his finger to a doorway that looked like it had a stairwell just in side and to the left.  "Who's playing?" I asked.
"Midwest Dilemma." he shot back.  As if still surprised that we had no knowledge of a show, or a venue for that matter.
"How much does it cost?" Anne asked curiously.
"Five bucks.  You can pay the doorman, He probably won't have change if you need it."
"We should check it out!" Anne said with a hint of excitement in her voice.
"Yeah, for sure!  Lets go."  I responded.

     The big man returned to his magazine as we walked towards the stairs.  I was burning with anticipation.  I felt like Anne was too.  It was a dark staircase with a lone light at the bottom, much like the one outside of the shop.  There was a closed door at the bottom, with a sign that said, "Careful when opening."  You could hear a jazzy acoustic vibe coming from the other side of the door.  I put my hand on the doorknob and slowly opened it.  The music flowed out loudly, but it was soothing, an enticing ambiance filled the room.  Quite a large crowd was there.  I never would have guess it with Anne and I being the only customers in the shop upstairs.  I heard a voice to my left say, "10 bucks..."  I turned and saw the doorman sitting behind a table with a cash box on it.  I gave him ten dollars, leaving me with one dollar still in my wallet, and he motioned us to go on.
     Anne and I made our way through the crowd so we could both get a look at the band playing.  I couldn't believe it.  Several people sat on the stage, all playing very different instruments.  There were guitarists, cello, violin, trumpet, and a few other instruments that I wasn't sure what their actual names were.  The person I took to be the leader was playing guitar and singing.  He had a large beard and long hair that flowed out of a stocking cap.  He reminded me of Sean Beam of Iron and Wine.  We listened to the notes bend, and the chords vibrate off the walls.  I could feel my guts rising into my throat.  I was getting choked up by the beauty of the whole scene.  I noticed my body swaying to the rhythm of the tunes.  Looking over at Anne I saw that she was doing the same.

     We stayed there for about a half hour, until the band was done.  We were caught in the middle of the bottlenecking crowd all heading towards the narrow doorway leading to the stairs.  We stay back, hoping the we could wait till the crowd thinned out.  I notice to the right of the stage there was a door with an "Exit" sign above it.  I nudged Anne and pointed my head towards the sign.  We went through the door and saw another staircase that lead up to a rainy alley.  We stepped outside into the rain, not caring that we were getting soaked.
     We started walking down the alley towards where we had come from.  It was dark.  Every forty feet or so there were lights over the back doors to the shops.  There was a waiter leaning against a brick wall smoking a cigarette.  His face showed blankness.  Obviously had been a dull night.  He gave us a nod as we passed by, then flicked his cigarette out into the alley, and disappeared behind a dark grey door.  The alley lead to the street that we had taken to get downtown.  Anne walked close to me.  I could tell we were both beginning to look very tired, rain running off our noses and our steps were beginning to slightly drag.

       The rain started letting up a bit.  Walking back to Freddy's seemed to take longer than it did getting here.  This didn't bother me.  In fact, I soaked this moment up, and took a deep breath in.  There was a euphoria that engulfed me.  I couldn't find the words at that moment that expressed how I felt.  Almost like an instrumental piece of music, although there are no lyrics, the music speaks volumes.  Possibly even more than lyrics ever could.  I felt satisfied, like something was accomplished even though the evening had so far been spent doing "meaningless" things.
     Finally, we reached Freddy's, where Anne and I would part ways.  She lived about four miles north, on the other side of town.  She shared a house with three other girls.  We said our goodbyes, both agreeing that tonight was exactly what each of us needed.  I gave her a slight wave and a smile as I turned and stepped off the curb toward my apartment.

     It was a thoughtful walk down the alley.  I processed the adventure that I was fortunate enough to embark on.  I was walking by the dumpster under the balcony of my apartment when a tiny red flashing light on the ground caught my eye.  I stepped close to get a better look.  It was my cell phone hardly concealed under a garbage bag.  I picked it up and examined it.  Not a scratch on it...  It must have landed on one of the garbage bags there and gently slid under another.  That's when I noticed there was a missed text message.  It was from Julia, Anne's roommate.  It said, "can you give anne a call? she just left the house really upset.  i dont think shes doing ok."  I looked at when the message was received, I got it nearly the exact moment I stepped into Freddy's.  As I pondered this my phone started vibrating in my pocket.  I pulled it out and read a text from Anne, "Thanks for the little adventure! It was a lot of fun! Have a good night!"

                                                           Thanks for reading, Nate